Spoiler alert!
Feb. 20th, 2019 04:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wiseheartThose who are interested can read the first scene of Chapter 21 of Kansas 2 - The Yellow Brick Road behind the tag. Featuring Galen (from B5/Crusade) and Seven of Nine (ST:Voyager).
Have fun and tell me what you think!
Seven of Nine stepped down from the dais of her regeneration chamber with the elegance of a ballet dancer; something she wouldn’t have been able to do while still a fully equipped Borg drone. Her shipmates would probably say that regaining some of her humanity was definitely an advantage; at least where aesthetics were considered.
For her part, she disagreed. Aesthetics were irrelevant – unless they represented the perfection of cosmic laws – and losing a great deal of her implants had made her a lot less efficient. But they were irrevocably gone now, and there was nothing left than do what the Borg did best: adapt to the new situation.
So far she had adapted well enough. Captain Janeway was pleased with her development towards individuality, and her shipmates had become used to her. Most of them had accepted her as a member of the crew. Some of them, like Lieutenant Torres, still clearly disliked her, and Commander Chakotay still very obviously didn’t trust her. But even the commander considered her an individual now… albeit an untrustworthy one.
No-one of them could even imagine how lonely, how… crippled she was, without hearing the others in her mind. How could they? They had never experienced the unity, the limitless knowledge of the Collective’s shared consciousness. Not even telepaths could ever come close.
But that could not be helped. What was gone was gone, and she had to make the best of her current situation.
She shut down the regeneration chamber to save power till she would need it again and was about to leave the cargo bay when she felt the presence of another.
“Who is there?” she demanded. “Declare yourself!”
“Always so suspicious; always so hostile,” the familiar, light tenor vice chided, and a bald man in a long black coat emerged from the shadows, holding a metal staff.
She rolled her eyes. “Galen. How did you get aboard unnoticed?”
“Trade secret,” the techno-mage replied lightly. “Magic; or technology too advanced for your instruments to discover. Take your pick.”
“I am not interested in your games,” Seven told him. “Why are you here again? What do you want?”
“That is a loaded question you should never ask; at least not while the Shadows are still around,” Galen warned her. “And under no circumstances should you answer it if one of their agents asks. As for my presence here: I have brought news and I want to show you something.”
Seven raised an eyebrow. “News about what?”
She seriously doubted that he could tell her anything of interest, but his news might be of importance for Captain Janeway, so she was willing to listen… for the time being anyway.
“About the battle in Sector 83,” Galen replied. “You might be interested in the fact that it has been won; although at high costs; and it was just the beginning of the war.”
“Then your news is ambivalent at best,” Seven stated. “And what is it you want to show me?”
Galen appeared to hesitate for a moment.
“Something that might make you fell less alone,” he finally said.
“Impossible,” she returned impassively. “There are no other Borg in this reality. If there were, I would feel them; even if I could no longer hear their voices in my head. I am alone.”
“No other Borg, no,” the techno-mage allowed. “But there are about a hundred people who could greatly benefit from your existence; and you from theirs.”
She gave him a suspicious look. “People like you?”
“No,” he replied grimly. “They’ve been a lot less fortunate than I; and not of their own fault.”
“I see,” she said after a moment, in which she analysed the data already at her disposal, trying to put together a possible picture; and failing. The data were woefully insufficient. “And where are these… unfortunate people now?”
“In one of the unused MedLabs,” he said. “Captain Sheridan and his war council don’t want anyone else to know about their presence.”
“Yet you obviously do,” she pointed out.
He shrugged. “I have my ways. Well, are you coming or not? Our chances to get in and out unnoticed are lessening with each wasted minute.”
Seven hesitated for a moment. She had no reason to trust this mysterious person who could get in and out of places without authorisation; but her curiosity was piqued now, and she really wanted to see what he intended to show her.
“Very well,” she said coolly. “Show the way.”
For those unfamiliar with the shows I added a few visuals in the comments.
Have fun and tell me what you think!
Seven of Nine stepped down from the dais of her regeneration chamber with the elegance of a ballet dancer; something she wouldn’t have been able to do while still a fully equipped Borg drone. Her shipmates would probably say that regaining some of her humanity was definitely an advantage; at least where aesthetics were considered.
For her part, she disagreed. Aesthetics were irrelevant – unless they represented the perfection of cosmic laws – and losing a great deal of her implants had made her a lot less efficient. But they were irrevocably gone now, and there was nothing left than do what the Borg did best: adapt to the new situation.
So far she had adapted well enough. Captain Janeway was pleased with her development towards individuality, and her shipmates had become used to her. Most of them had accepted her as a member of the crew. Some of them, like Lieutenant Torres, still clearly disliked her, and Commander Chakotay still very obviously didn’t trust her. But even the commander considered her an individual now… albeit an untrustworthy one.
No-one of them could even imagine how lonely, how… crippled she was, without hearing the others in her mind. How could they? They had never experienced the unity, the limitless knowledge of the Collective’s shared consciousness. Not even telepaths could ever come close.
But that could not be helped. What was gone was gone, and she had to make the best of her current situation.
She shut down the regeneration chamber to save power till she would need it again and was about to leave the cargo bay when she felt the presence of another.
“Who is there?” she demanded. “Declare yourself!”
“Always so suspicious; always so hostile,” the familiar, light tenor vice chided, and a bald man in a long black coat emerged from the shadows, holding a metal staff.
She rolled her eyes. “Galen. How did you get aboard unnoticed?”
“Trade secret,” the techno-mage replied lightly. “Magic; or technology too advanced for your instruments to discover. Take your pick.”
“I am not interested in your games,” Seven told him. “Why are you here again? What do you want?”
“That is a loaded question you should never ask; at least not while the Shadows are still around,” Galen warned her. “And under no circumstances should you answer it if one of their agents asks. As for my presence here: I have brought news and I want to show you something.”
Seven raised an eyebrow. “News about what?”
She seriously doubted that he could tell her anything of interest, but his news might be of importance for Captain Janeway, so she was willing to listen… for the time being anyway.
“About the battle in Sector 83,” Galen replied. “You might be interested in the fact that it has been won; although at high costs; and it was just the beginning of the war.”
“Then your news is ambivalent at best,” Seven stated. “And what is it you want to show me?”
Galen appeared to hesitate for a moment.
“Something that might make you fell less alone,” he finally said.
“Impossible,” she returned impassively. “There are no other Borg in this reality. If there were, I would feel them; even if I could no longer hear their voices in my head. I am alone.”
“No other Borg, no,” the techno-mage allowed. “But there are about a hundred people who could greatly benefit from your existence; and you from theirs.”
She gave him a suspicious look. “People like you?”
“No,” he replied grimly. “They’ve been a lot less fortunate than I; and not of their own fault.”
“I see,” she said after a moment, in which she analysed the data already at her disposal, trying to put together a possible picture; and failing. The data were woefully insufficient. “And where are these… unfortunate people now?”
“In one of the unused MedLabs,” he said. “Captain Sheridan and his war council don’t want anyone else to know about their presence.”
“Yet you obviously do,” she pointed out.
He shrugged. “I have my ways. Well, are you coming or not? Our chances to get in and out unnoticed are lessening with each wasted minute.”
Seven hesitated for a moment. She had no reason to trust this mysterious person who could get in and out of places without authorisation; but her curiosity was piqued now, and she really wanted to see what he intended to show her.
“Very well,” she said coolly. “Show the way.”
For those unfamiliar with the shows I added a few visuals in the comments.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2019-02-21 06:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-02-21 06:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-02-21 01:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-02-21 05:59 pm (UTC)For visuals: Seven of Nine while still a Borg drone; and then the Space Barbie version:
Techno-mage Galen: